


The Big Job

by Lysandra31



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen, Vignette, Wordcount: 500-1.000, envy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysandra31/pseuds/Lysandra31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam thinks about things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big Job

You shouldn't feel this way. You shouldn't think these things. It's frustrating, self-defeating, and just plain stupid. There are moments, discrete and small slices of time, when you see things about yourself that you'd rather not see.

He's a good guy. A good man; he's a very good man. He's been blessed with honor and intelligence and compassion, and none of this should be held against him. You should simply look up to the man rather than worry that you'll never be him.

_"The times we live in are deceptively easy and dangerously frightening. They are both the best of times and the worst of times."_

Hell, you're a good guy. You're probably a good man. You're smart, there's no doubt on that count. You're honorable, aren't you? Most of the time? Sure, there have been instances where you've done careless things. Your dalliance with Laurie comes to mind. Everyone's careless at times, even him. But even his careless moments are pondered and mapped out. Yours are more about you, more selfish. He's not selfish. If you were truly compassionate, you wouldn't be having this warped conversation with yourself. You're smart enough to recognize that.

_"We must do what we can, as individuals, as families, as Americans, and as citizens of the world, to make it through the worst of times, and make the most of the best of times."_

His thoughts are probably important and righteous and ridiculously pure, while you're spending your afternoon worrying that you'll never be as good as he is. You tell yourself to think about your own life, think about the fact that you're a fine person, think about what you could do to be a better individual, family member, American, and world citizen.

Sounds trite when you say it. And you wrote it.

He's only a human being, and surely he must have these sorts of thoughts too. But the more you think about it, the less sure you become. He's more selfless than you. He sees the big picture, and hell if he doesn't improve upon it. You often think that he couldn't do this without you, without any of you. He's said as much himself. But he could do each of your jobs, and you know it. He could do your job with ease, if he had the time. He'd be good at it; he could do Josh's job, and C.J.'s, and Toby's, and Leo's. The only person who did her job more efficiently and with more flair than he could was Mrs. Landingham.

If you close your eyes you can see him as a quiet superhero, complete with seven-color comic strip panels made up of dots and solids. You want to be the superhero. Save the day, get the girl, make the world a better place.

But he's got no mask, no cape, no wings. He's a good man, and he's made the important choices, and the necessary sacrifices, to do the big job.

You're not ready for his job.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back in January 2002, as a response to a livejournal mood vignette challenge. It had to be 500 words and based on an LJ mood. I chose "envious."


End file.
